Karen Odden -- every other Thursday
When I was growing up, in Rochester, New York, November was (T.S. Eliot notwithstanding) the cruelest month. It was also my birthday month, and a dreary one because it marked the beginning of up to six months of winter, with snow and sleet and lowering clouds, black skies and frigid blasts as I walked to the bus stop every morning, trying not to slip because even when the plows came, they left an inch of packed ice on the streets, and afternoons of standing in the cold, waiting for the city bus to take me to my shift at the salad bar or the cash register at Ponderosa Steakhouse. (And you wonder why I moved to AZ.)
It's Thanksgiving today – and as we consider things to be grateful for – I’m thankful that living in Arizona means that November is the least cruel month, the start to our best weather. Second thing I'm thankful for: my family has lived in Phoenix for twenty years, which is long enough to accumulate a nice group of friends. A third thing is I turned 60 on November 11, and I received some cards that made me laugh. (I'm always grateful for a chuckle!) I've left the off-color ones aside, but just for fun, I'm going to share some here:

This last is the perfect one for a mystery writer, isn’t it? (Inside, my friend wrote, “Between your writing research, BBC, Britbox, and Acorn, we could do it!!”)
While I’ll probably never be asked to hide a body for anyone (!), I have been meditating on friendship and loyalty for the past year, as I wrote this book about an all-women thieving gang. At one point, my protagonist Kit says, “There is a certain thickness to us thieves,” but the book is not only about loyalty among thieves; it's also about loyalty between friends, sisters, and lovers.
Indeed, this year, I've spent considerable time (when I probably should be doing something more productive!) wondering, in a philosophical, looking-back-on-my-life-from-60 sort of way, What does loyalty look like, and how does it differ, depending on the kind of relationship? Is honesty the most important factor? A willingness to put someone else’s safety ahead of our own? A mutual acceptance of each other, with all the faults and “rag and bone shop” elements of the heart? Small, daily kindness? Steadiness of affection and behavior? A verbal commitment? Or something else?
Coincidentally, I just finished reading a pretty remarkable (#1 NYT Bestseller) book by Arthur C. Brooks, From Strength to Strength: Finding Success, Happiness and Deep Purpose in the Second Half of Life. (Thanks to my friend Karen Greenberg for gifting me a copy.) Brooks is a social scientist, and I found this a thoughtful, compelling read. At one point, he talks about how vitally important our deep friendships are -- that they are "the single most important trait of Happy-Well elders" (in a study begun at Harvard in 1938 and carried forward). I love the metaphor he finds for these friendships -- so much so I'm going to share it here:
"The redwood, which can grow to 275 feet tall, has remarkably shallow roots--often only 5 or 6 feet deep. It seems to violate the laws of physics that they can stay upright for hundreds--even thousands--of years. That is, until you know one more fact: the redwoods grow in thick groves because their shallow roots are intertwined and, over time, fuse together. They start out as individuals and become one with others as they mature and grow." (p. 112)
I feel like loyalty is an aspect of our lives that has about a hundred facets, and I'd love to hear your thoughts. (Is this too personal and/or serious for a blogpost? I hope not.) If you're game, toss your thoughts about "what loyalty is" into the pot. And if you'd like to say something you're thankful for today, that's welcome too!



Loyal friends celebrate your successes, show up when times are tough, and pick up right where you left off, even if it's been a while since you've connected.
ReplyDeleteYes :) I love that.
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